


we'll marry our fortunes together

by mozartspiano



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartspiano/pseuds/mozartspiano
Summary: kyle is wearing a cozy knit sweater when he answers the door. he is wearing fuzzy socks. he is also holding his ridiculously cute baby.





	we'll marry our fortunes together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrsbarlow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbarlow/gifts).

> for a gabitha on her birthday. bc nothing makes her feel quite as much as hunky dork kyle dubas and a baby.
> 
> and i guess an early birthday present for auston matthews. i got u boo.
> 
> title from s&g's _america_

"kasperi?" willy calls. "kappy? kappy? kas? kap-"

"oh my god," kappy says, appearing in willy's doorway. "what? yes."

"hello," willy says. he holds up two of his most beautiful ivory dress shirts. "which one?"

"those are the same."

"step closer." kappy does. "do you see, with the light? this one has more of an egg shell reflection?"

"uh huh," kappy says. he flops back onto willy's bed, over the various pants and shirts and cravat rejects. "is this for your dinner thing?"

"if by _ dinner thing _ you mean my dinner - date - my dinner date with kyle, then yes." willy holds both shirts up in front of his chest, while squinting into the mirror in his ensuite. "he is picking me up at seven. we are getting italian. he will be the most handsome and smart and cute."

"italian?"

"yes."

"you're going to get a meatball stain on your white shirt," kappy says. "just a big ball stain on your shirt."

"you're a big ball stain," willy says but he has a point. "okay. perhaps i need to re-evaluate my ivory decision."

kappy wiggles a shirt out from under his back, where he's lying over all of willy's perfectly good clothes: "what about this hawaiian disaster?"

"i look like a dad on vacation."

"well, kyle's a dad," kappy says. "bet he would love it."

"now this one," willy says, holding up a patterned silk ensemble he picked up while pretending to listen to auston mumble on about his aesthetic at a boutique in yorkville, "this one has style. it has class. it says that i'm fun and flirty and young but not too young for you, kyle, darling."

"it's very loud."

"that's the _ point _."

"i don't want to go for the obvious here," kappy says, "but have we explored baby blue?"

willy sighs. "obviously we have explored it. who am i without blue."

"the one with the dark blue lining, bro."

"it makes my eyes pop," willy says, "but i wore it to the fundraiser three weeks ago and kyle totally noticed it. he said," willy pitches his voice lower, "'william, you look very nice tonight,' and i almost knocked into a waiter because my knees went all aflutter."

"and that's when he asked you out?"

"no," willy says, "he asked me out two weeks later when we bumped into each other after the game against detroit when my hair was all sexy wet and i was wearing this -" he grabs the sleeve of his beautiful dark olive oxford "- which means i can't wear this, either."

"this is the most you problem in the world," kappy says. 

"when you set a precedent of looking hot twenty-four sev your life becomes an endless sea of trying to match it," willy says. "i wouldn't expect you to understand."

"my butt is vibrating," kappy says. he reaches a hand under himself and pulls out willy's phone which is indeed lighting up with a phone call from - 

"kyle," willy says into the phone, "hello! are you okay? i thought we said seven?"

"hi," kyle says. down the line he sounds far away, not just in the telephone-sense but in the metaphorically-not-telephone-sense too. "i'm really sorry to do this william."

willy sits down. there is no bed to catch him so he sits on the floor. "oh."

"my babysitter cancelled," kyle says. "she has the flu? i guess that's been going around?"

"oh," willy says. he feels his bottom lip wobble and pokes it into place. "well. um."

"i'm sorry, will. i was really looking forward to it."

kappy wiggles his head upside down and over the edge of willy's bed. he raises, or rather lowers, a quizzical brow. willy turns his head away to pout and say, "it's okay. i understand."

"i'd invite you over to eat apple slices and watch paw patrol," kyle says, smile in his voice. "but somehow i don't think that's quite your idea of a fun time."

willy feels himself light up. "um, that's totally my idea of a fun time."

kyle laughs. willy does not laugh. he stands up, moves to his chest of drawers and opens his _t-shirt: casual_ drawer.

"i could pick us up dinner," willy says. he begins his careful process of shirt-decision-making which may look to an outsider like he is flinging clothes around his room at random but is actually an art. "and we could babysit together. like in middle school movies. and 90's sitcoms."

"you don't have to, will."

"i want to," willy says. "it sounds fun. i like babies. i like babysitting. and i can read the plot of paw patrol in the car on the way to yours so i understand the episode."

kyle laughs again. 

when willy hangs up kappy has rolled onto his tummy, hand propping his chin up. "did kyle dump you already? is it because he found out you tried to listen to a podcast once and you feel asleep forty-five seconds in?"

"shut up." willy holds up two t-shirts. "which one says i'm cute and flirty but mature enough to take care of your small child, kyle, but also sexy enough to still fool around with when small child goes to bed?"

"willy, i hate this."

"just answer the question."

kappy sighs. "the one on the left."

kyle is wearing a cozy knit sweater when he answers the door. he is wearing fuzzy socks. he is also holding his ridiculously cute baby. 

"hey," he says, leaning forward to give willy a kiss on the cheek. "i'm glad you made it."

willy doesn't know where to look. this is so much. he looks at kyle's confused baby and kyle's confused baby's giant puffy cheeks and big brown kyle-inherited eyes. "hiiiiii."

"do you remember william, teddy?" kyle asks his baby. his hand is the same size as baby's back. willy did not know this was a thing for him but it's like a _ thing for him _. "you met him at that big fancy dinner awhile ago."

teddy shakes his head slow, his eyes luminous in the light of kyle's front hallway. 

"don't be offended," kyle says. "he doesn't really have cognitive memory yet. because he's two."

they grab plates from the kitchen and bring them into the living room. willy picked up indian food and something brown has run out of one of the styrofoam containers and made the whole bag a little sticky. 

"i got butter chicken and aloo gobi," willy says. "because i felt they were the least divisive of my options."

teddy is sitting between them criss-cross applesauce, watching cartoon dogs on the television solve building? problems? municipal issues? willy's not sure. he's eating his cut up hot dogs and macaroni and green beans off a plate that looks like a frisbee. 

kyle reaches over teddy's head to squeeze the back of willy's neck. "it's perfect. thank you for picking it up."

the food is good and kyle stretches his arm across the couch so willy can rest his back into the nook of kyle's elbow and paw patrol is actually kind of dope. 

"i think i like skye the best," willy says, twelve minutes in.

"yeah," teddy says. it is the cutest anyone, ever, has ever sounded in the whole world. willy feels like he needs to call his sisters and apologize but it's the truth. "and marshall."

"we're big marshall fans in this house," kyle says. with his other hand he brushes teddy's curls off his face. "aren't we, bud?"

teddy nods seriously, chin up and down, looking at willy.

"he's funny, isn't he?" willy asks.

"yeah."

willy meets kyle's eye over teddy's head. willy's plan for the evening, shirt impending, had been to pull out all the stops. he was going to shimmer and glitter and giggle and angle himself until kyle was properly seduced. he was going to do complicated things with spaghetti that made kyle forget about every single other human person he's met and then they were going to have baller sex and it was going to be the best night of everyone's life. 

it is possible that this kind of seduction - sitting on a couch with sauce on his face being nice to kyle's kid - is all willy really had to do. 

"do you want the last papadum?"

"let's split it."

willy breaks it in half, gives half to kyle. he holds it on his tongue, lets it go soggy, and watches kyle's profile in the blue light of the television. 

kyle puts teddy down to sleep just after eight. 

_ hold my calls _ , willy texts kappy, _ i am in love. we shall have a spring wedding _.

kappy leaves him on read. 

"hey," kyle says when he comes back, his thigh pressed to willy's thigh, his arm around willy's shoulders. "thank you again for being cool about tonight."

"i guess i'm just really cool."

kyle puts his mouth where willy's nose slopes down to his cheek. willy's mouth is too jealous for that, can't stand when it's not getting attention, and he turns in kyle's arms to kiss him. 

they didn't turn off paw patrol so it's their soundtrack. willy sits over kyle's lap, knees on either side of him, and keeps his eyes closed as they kiss. he likes the feeling of kyle's chin under his thumb and the soft hairs at the back of his neck. willy likes how warm kyle's tummy is when he sneaks a hand up his sweater, smooth skin that goes sweaty under willy's palm.

"this okay?" kyle asks when he slides his fingers around willy's thighs.

"yes god," willy says. "touch me everywhere, _ please _, i'm dying."

kissing kyle is fun because kyle is fun, likes breaking off to nip at the end of willy's nose and sometimes just to look at him, smoothing back willy's hair from his face with a smile. it's infuriating because willy's used to kissing for an end, to get to the sexy sexy times he's so good at, and this doesn't feel like that. 

kyle's fingers tug at willy's hair, bring him back down to earth in a shudder.

"are you warm enough?" kyle asks. "i can turn on the fireplace."

"i'm burning up, baby." kyle laughs. "i'm not being funny. i am never being funny in the heat of passion."

"good god," kyle says but he lets willy put willy's tongue back into his mouth so he can't be that upset.

willy wonders who kyle's first kiss was. he wonders if it was like willy's first kiss, a curious, slow thing in an empty locker room, or if it was something more classic; a couch like this or outside a movie theatre. willy wonders and wonders and then, asks.

"it was in the catwalk of my high school auditorium," kyle says. his hands have ended up in two different spots - willy's hair and the dimples at the base of willy's spine - and his cheeks are flushed. "my friend was in AV and i wanted to impress this girl in my history class. and it worked, obviously. she shared her fruit gushers with me and we kissed."

"i'm extremely jealous."

"don't be, i had a really bad haircut back then."

"i mean about the fruit gushers," willy lies and he pushes himself further into kyle's arms. his warm strong man arms. his warm strong baby-carrying man arms that make willy feel extremely sure that he will never ever leave this place. catch him living and dying on kyle's couch. 

"what about you?"

"a recreation facility somewhere in the burbs of illinois," willy says. "super sexy."

"mmm i bet."

they kiss some more, until willy can barely keep his eyes open and his carefully chosen casual shirt is hiked up to his sternum and they've both sunk into the cushions, sleepy limbs holding each other close. 

"mayyyyybe," willy sing-songs into kyle's mouth, licking at kyle's top lip, "we could take this little party upstairs. make it an upstairs bed party."

kyle's woodland creature brown eyes perk up a little but then, like a crack of thunder at the beach, a sharp cry comes from the stairwell.

"daddy?" 

they both look over. teddy is in a leafs pyjama set and is holding a stuffed rhinoceros with one hand. willy shifts back, tumbles sideways on the couch so kyle can stand up.

"can't sleep?" he asks, getting up slowly. 

"bad dream," teddy says and willy's not wearing his glasses but he can see that his face is shiny with tears. 

"maybe daddy can help, huh?" kyle says, stooping to pick teddy up. 

willy watches them go upstairs. his shirt is still tugged up weird so he pulls it down, wipes his hand over the back of his mouth. he feels weirdly abandoned and then guilty about feeling abandoned so he eats more food to deal with his feelings and pulls his phone out. 

it's about a half hour later, when kyle comes back downstairs. he looks more tired than he did before.

"is he asleep?"

"yep," kyle says. he leans over the back of the couch, forearms along the cushions. "he likes to fall asleep clutching me so i can't leave. kid's got an iron grip."

willy smiles. 

"i have a bottle of wine in the fridge," kyle says. "we could watch some adult television."

"but i really want to find out what happens to the mayor's house," willy says, gesturing at paw patrol. "will they fix it in time for the big party? i mean, kyle, these are pressing questions."

kyle kisses the top of willy's head, says, "i'll grab the wine," and goes to the kitchen. 

it's not every time. it's not even most of the time, to be honest. usually their dates are delicious meals at cozy restaurants or splitting a store bought cake in willy's condo or making out in the back of a half empty theatre like they're high schoolers. 

but sometimes kyle will call him, like today, and say "we're going to the farmer's market at dufferin grove, do you want to go?" or "there's a kid's birthday party i have to go to this afternoon but we can swing by your place afterwards, maybe go to the park?"

today it's riverdale farm. another _ we _ snuck over a phone call that made butterflies flutter around willy's tummy (kyle likes to call, thinks it's easier than texting back and forth a million times. kappy calls him a baby boomer behind his back). 

he wouldn't hate being apart of that _ we _someday, is the thing.

kyle picks him up at his condo. he's wearing a maroon knit sweater, which is a very nice look on him, and a cute smile.

"you look great," he says, kissing willy hello. 

"i woke up like this," willy says. it's a slight stretch of the truth which is that willy woke up at seven am and has been showering, tweezing, moisturizing, blowdrying, and outfit workshopping ever since. it takes a lot of work to look so effortlessly dope in a leather jacket he stole from auston like a month ago and kappy's off white if-you-spill-anything-on-this-i'll-fucking-end-you-bro shirt. 

"good morning teddy," willy says, turning around to see teddy in a carseat behind him. 

he's wearing overalls and a flannel shirt and he's smiling at willy. 

"willy," he says, observantly.

"want to tell willy what we had for breakfast this morning?" kyle asks as he pulls out of the spot he nabbed in front of willy's building. 

"waffles!" teddy says with a lot more enthusiasm than he had said 'willy'. it's okay though. willy gets it. he also loves waffles. 

"someone's on a bit of a sugar high." kyle turns to willy, "but how are you? did you and kasperi have a good time at that arcade bar?"

"a good time would be one way to put it," willy says. "i kicked his butt in DDR, obviously."

"obviously."

willy leans over, sticks his nose in kyle's sweater at his shoulder and breathes in. he can feel teddy looking at him and knows soon kyle will say "i do have to drive, will," but he stays there for a few seconds, face pressed into wool, and smiles.

kyle parks on a side street in cabbagetown, a tree-lined street with red brick victorian houses and friendly dogs. he checks the parking meter up ahead while willy helps a squirming teddy out of his carseat. 

"are you excited to see the animals, buddy?" willy asks, lifting teddy into his arms. he's at once too big and too small, with his warm soft baby arms around willy's neck. "what animal do you want to see the most?"

"llama," teddy says big eyes blinking up and around and then back to willy. 

"those are my favourite too," willy says, smiling, and teddy smiles back.

kyle puts his little parking pass in the windshield and comes back to meet them on the sidewalk. "do you want me to take him?"

"that's okay," willy says. he hikes teddy up a bit. "we're becoming best friends, aren't we teddy?"

"yeah."

"alrighty," kyle says, laughing. his smile is infectious and his hand is warm, even through the leather jacket when it goes to willy's back. 

willy's been to the don valley before to day-drink with kappy but they never bothered popping by the farm. it's really cute and small and packed with other families and their kids. there's a wandering path through pens and teddy squirms out of willy's arms to wobble around on his own two feet. 

kyle crouches down next to teddy to look at a cow eating some hay. willy can only sort of hear what he's saying as he stands behind them. he has a weird desire to take a photo of them with his phone so he can look at it forever: kyle's hand on teddy's back, pointing through the fence, their own little bubble. 

when kyle stands it's with what he calls an "old man grunt". he picks teddy up onto his hip and says "probably easier to see up here, kid."

willy sneaks in beside them and skirts his fingers into teddy's belly to hear him giggle. he wonders what they look like to everyone, if they look like a little family. 

teddy's not that impressed with the horses, even when one of them whinnies, but he laughs at the pigs and stares at the chickens for a long time. 

"do you think you can buy them here?" willy asks. "would be dope to have some free range chicken for dinner."

"william," kyle says, "there are children around."

"what's wrong with wanting to e-a-t the chicken?"

"feathers!" teddy says, reverently. 

"well put, ted," kyle says. he fixes one of teddy's overall straps from where it's slunk down his shoulder. 

"do you want him to become a vegan or something when he grows up? these things start young, kyle. this is the age where kids develop the skills they're going to use for the rest of their lives."

"you little weirdo," kyle says. 

usually kyle swears a lot more. kyle loves to swear. there's nothing kyle seems to love to do more than use 'motherfuck' in increasingly creative ways while drunk in william's bed. it's admirable, the ways in which he adapts for his child.

"your little weirdo," willy shoots back which isn't a great comeback but it makes kyle smile so.

they make it to the duck pond before things starts going awry. teddy keeps squirming, doesn't want to be picked up. then he starts pouting, big heaving pouts with his arms crossed like babs behind the bench when willy fucks up. 

they're almost out of the turnstiles at the front of the farm when he loses it and goes full two year old.

"oh babe," willy says, over teddy's cries. he tries to put a hand on his back but teddy's not having an of it, twisting in kyle's arms.

kyle doesn't say anything, just grabs teddy's hands and holds them to his chest. he leads them to the car and buckles teddy back into his carseat.

willy sits in the passenger seat and twists his phone around and around in his hand. it's never been easy, not since he was a kid, to watch a baby cry. it's even harder to watch kyle's carefully stowed away frustration. 

he slides back into the front seat and turns the engine over. the radio, on a kids station, mixes with teddy's anguish. 

"sorry," he says, once, looking at the steering wheel.

"it's fine," willy says, wishing he could climb over the gearstick and give kyle a hug or a lapdance or something. whatever would make him feel better. 

kyle changes the radio to indie rock, sighs, and drives them home.

teddy's still going when they get back to the house. his face has gone purple as the blueberry jam willy's grandmother makes back in sweden. he's still flailing in kyle's arms, hitting at him, even as kyle carries him up the stairs. 

willy sits on the couch. he listens to teddy's shouts and waits. he waits so long he wonders if he should go home.

eventually he wanders into the kitchen. kyle has a beautiful kitchen, with big windows and a breakfast nook that looks out over his little garden. teddy is everywhere: in the photos on the fridge and the stepping stool next to the sink. 

willy wants to call his mom, kind of, and maybe cry a bit because he feels a little overwhelmed. only the image of kyle's face if he came down and saw willy crying too stops him.

instead, he opens the pantry.

_ hey zach? _ willy texts one handed, while moving cans of beans around, _ can u send me that chilli recipe u made that 1 time 4 me _

_ the one that you said made you have a "stomachgasm"? _

_ yeh _

zach sends the link. 

willy isn't great at cooking but he's picked up a few things over the years from watching his mom. also youtube is like incredible and when he doesn't know what zach's recipe means by deglazing the pan he just zips over to some hot stay-at-home mom's page to finds out. 

he's just putting the lid on the dutch oven when kyle comes into the kitchen.

"hey," willy says. "everything okay?"

kyle nods, dragging a hand through his hair. he took off his sweater and is in an old concert tshirt from a band willy's never heard of. when he says, "i got him down for his nap," his voice is rougher than usual.

he leans up against the counter near the stove and willy shifts into his space. he hooks his elbows around kyle's neck and kyle's hands go to the rounded part of willy's hips, steadying and warm. 

"sorry about that."

"it's okay."

"it's not," kyle says. his eyes are closed behind his glasses. "you're young. you shouldn't be spending your afternoon taking care of a toddler in a tantrum."

willy shrugs. "i didn't hate it."

"you should be with someone who can take you out," kyle says. 

"don't go all self-deprecating on me," willy says. he tugs kyle's ear to get him to open his eyes. "you're too smart and good looking for that shit."

"i'm just-" kyle starts, stops, starts again: "i'm very happy being a single parent, but it's hard. and i don't want you to feel like by being with me you have to be a parent too. because you're twenty-three, will, and you didn't sign up for this."

"hey," willy says. "stop that."

kyle looks at willy's eyes, his mouth, gets his gaze stuck somewhere between the two. 

"i don't like you in spite of teddy, dude," willy says. "i love teddy. i like that he's stopped being so shy around me. he's funny and he reminds me of you. and i like you, you dummy, and i love spending time with you guys and i know today sucked but i made chilli. and it'll taste great. i mean -" willy breaks off to give the dutch oven a look "-i think it'll taste great. the recipe called for kidney beans and white navy beans but you just had those bean medley cans so it might taste a bit odd. but it'll be fine."

"alright, will."

"you heard me? fine."

"yes, will."

"good."

kyle leans in, gives him a kiss on the nose and then another on his temple. 

it took willy awhile to realize kyle didn't just kiss for kissing's sake. he did, sometimes, but usually it was a "that was funny" or a "you're cute" in disguise. these kisses, sweet and soft, were "thank you" and they made the next breath willy took shakey. 

"i had to use some of your red wine to deglaze the pan," willy says, a few moments later. "we can share the rest of the bottle in the breakfast nook and watch the sun set."

"maybe in a minute," kyle says. he pulls willy in a bit closer. "let's stay like this for now."

**Author's Note:**

> normal brain: you know reading the goldfinch as i am i do quite like the name theodore lets go with that  
galaxy brain: oh and theo rhymes with leo which is kyle's actual cute baby's name nice  
super exploding galaxy brain: T E D D Y

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] we'll marry our fortunes together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700239) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)


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